Happy Halloween Ya'll

Just a little witch
on high
She'll tell you that
your love is nigh
Your fortune on Hallowe'en
when told
My secret will the witch unfold.
- from an early 19th Century Hallowe'en Postcard


I love Halloween. I do. I love to dress up. I'd do it every day if I wasn't afraid of being committed. It's great! It's play time. You get to pretend to be anyone you want to be. Plus...there's the candy...and well...where there is candy, there's bound to be chocolate! I don't think I need to reiterate how I feel about chocolate, do I? No I don't. There's only one thing I love more than just Halloween...Halloween and beer. Oh, yeah. Throw beer in the mix with the dressing up and pretending...the possiblities are endless...yeah, you know what I'm talking about.

I'll update later on today with Halloween pics....
**********************************************************
UPDATED

Not very original and actually a repeat of two years ago. I didn't have time to go look for a costume so I decided to be a horney...I mean...naughty little school girl again. Okay, so maybe not little...indulge me, will ya?




I was going to add a few more but Blogger is, once again, sucking ASS!!...maybe tomorrow..

Oh Monday Morning...

you gave me no warning of what was to be...

Recently heard while on hold with my dentists office: "Our office staff is specially trained in scheduling convenient appointments..." Huh? Wonder how much fucking "special training" that took. Moving on.

Because I really have more to do today than I have to say, I'm digging back into the old journal archives for a peek inside my twisted soul. Enjoy.

October 30th, 1997

I've gotten so tired of hiding. Even more tired of trying to be nice. Sometimes I want to spit my anger out at the whole world. I wonder why it's always the worst parts of your life that you're not supposed to talk about. It seems to me that those are the parts that need to be talked about the most. Maybe it's because anything remotely unpleasant makes people uncomfortable- and god knows, no one want to feel uncomfortable. People want to feel good. They want to talk about the game, or the sale at Macy's or their brand new car, house, boat, etc... They want to talk about everything and anything that doesn't really matter. It makes me sick. Their indifference is like poison seeping into my soul. It's a sad, sad world where the only people who are willing to listen are the one's you have to pay. And, even then, there is a difference between listening and really hearing. You can never truly know what is going on with another person unless you ask. Really ask and then hear what the other person is telling. No one does that. I guess that's what makes life so lonely. Maybe that's why we have children.

***************************************************************

I know. So uplifting for Monday morning. Keep in mind, these are journal entries though, and very little writing ever occurred on the happy days. This was written after the suicide of someone who had so many years left to live. Someone who could have changed the world. I was angry. At everyone.

***************************************************************

What I'm currently working on:

Stuff Portrait Friday - three p's

I'm on time today!!! It only took me all week to finally get on schedule, but the important thing is, I did it. Today we play SPF with Kristine over at Random and Odd. (a game where she asks us to post photos of our crap...I mean stuff) My cherry was popped last week and I'm coming back for more!! This week's assignment was also EASY,(thank dog!)so I didn't even hurt myself doing it. Hold on...here we go...

My Potholders:

Literally. Here are my pot holders. Fabulous, I know. Moving on..


My pumpkins:

Both of my pumpkins. :) The "punkin" and then the little pumpkin I purchased purely out of guilt over that fact that we didn't have a pumpkin. Shut up. That made sense to me.

Something pink:

My VS polka dotted pink pink top! Hey...it's something pink...in fact, I think it's the only thing pink I own. AND...because it's National Breast Cancer Awareness Month...you get a shot of my little lumpless rack too. It is lumpless, too. I checked. Did you??

Let me know if you played!

Half Nekkid Thursday - #29

Wanna know why everyone's gettin' nekkid?? Click the link above and visit Osbasso to find out.

No halloween theme for me today. I have this problem with reading the assignment after I've already completed it. I'll have to work on that.

Thanks to everyone who liked my half ass. Blogger almost sabotaged my HNT today by not allowing me to upload any photos, but in the end I won. Today we have the top that went with last weeks bottom...

...number twenty nine in my half-nekkid journey ...my little rack...



*************************************************************

Some random thoughts:

Are we really no more than the sum of our parts?

As beautiful as autumn in New England is...it sucks me dry.

I see no cure for the long cold winter ahead...expect for maybe a really good prescription.

I wish my dreams weren't so vivid.

How does one go about attaining this thing called "will power"?

I haven't really changed all that much.

Anyway, Happy HNT!

Happy Blog-o-versary to me!

Technically, my one year anniversary was on the 22nd but I forgot. Yup, I did. How weird. It's like forgetting your own birthday or something. What the hell is wrong with me?? I should of, like, had a party or something. Bought a cake. Gotten drunk. Invited all of my myspace friends over for a swanky soiree. There was even a new moon on that day! Damn!

Well in honor on my one year (forgotten) anniversary I thought I'd share a few things that you may not know about me. After all, we've been hanging out for a year now. It's probably time that you know...

I buy three dollar shirts...at Walmart. I do and I'm not ashamed. I literally wear a shirt for about 15 minutes before it's got 2 year old smear all over it, so it might as well be a three dollar shirt.

I don't really care that much about shoes. (ducking, so I don't get hit) I know most women are supposed to have some kind of love affair with shoes and own a zillion pairs of overly priced foot covers, but...I'm not one of those women.

I enjoy paying my car OFF and then driving it for years to come. I don't really get the urge to get something new. (something old maybe :)

I understand machines (computers, video games etc...)better than I do most people.

I think that machines also understand ME, better than most people. :)

I have the ability to become addicted to just about anything. Really. ANYTHING. (obsessive compulsive, maybe??) ;)

I'm a dreamer, and then I often squash my own dreams with the guilt-ridden, practical, left side of my brain.

I truly want nothing more than to be calm, happy, and content.

I feel blessed to have met some amazing blogger peeps during the past year and I love you all!! :)

Cheers!

It's a new day

And for this new day we have some photos that were taken on a recent drive around our "hood". As much as I despise the cold, and the snow, and the dry air, and static electricity...I have to admit, we do live in one of the most beautiful areas.

We live in cranberry country. Literally. I live near Cranberry Rd and often get stuck in traffic on Cranberry Highway. I take classes at Cranberry Barn Studios and am looking into Cranberry Crossing Daycare. I can't go to Cranberry Dental, because they don't accept my insurance, but I'm really looking forward to checking out The Cranberry Book Barn. Should I go on? No? Okay. We're surrounded by cranberry bogs. I haven't counted them, but there's a real fucking lot. I missed most of the harvesting but managed to get this one at the end of our street.


This little guy was just hanging out in the middle of nowhere and scared the be-jezzus out of me. At first I thought he was a white wolf, though I think that was me wishing he was a white wolf.


I titled this one natures graveyard. It fits. Even ugly can be beautiful.


Another view of the same area.


One of the oldest churches in town. I've never set foot in it, and probably never will, but she is pretty to look at.


Blogger only lets me do five at a time and I'm too lazy to upload anymore right now. Time to "get my ass in gear", as my mom would say. It's not freezing today, so I think we may actually get outside to do some walking. I'm in serious need of some type of exercise to aid in fighting off this anxiety that it's slowly trying to take over my life again. Last night was a rough night, and I wanted nothing more than to just say "I'm scared" outloud for anyone to hear. But I didn't, because what would inevitably follow that statement would be the question "why?, what are you scared of?". And because I don't have an answer that would make sense to anyone who has never experienced this kind of anxiety, I don't say anything. It's become too much of an effort to try to explain, and my need to have someone understand isn't as great as it used to be.

Stuff Portrait Friday - first time showin' my stuff

So, it's a little late. What else is new. Today I decided to play SPF with Kristine over at Random and Odd. (a game where she asked us to post photos of our crap) I'm a complete virgin and have been wanting to play for a while now. This week's assignment was EASY, which lately is all my overworked brain can handle. So here goes...

The Kitchen Sink:

With no dishes!!! I took this last night, though. Had I taken it during the day it would have filled with random sippy cups and elmo bowls. Seriously I do dishes by hand at least three times a day.

Something I need to fix:

This is our pellet stove. It's not the stove that needs fixing, but the sad tile underneath it. It was a do it yourselfer job, and as you can see, it needs to be done again. Besides the off center look, and loss of trim, the tiles are actually cracked underneath. Pretty!

Something I'm going to throw away after I take the picture:

I won't even tell you how many times I throw these away during the day, each time swearing that it will be my last. These little bastards make me fat and wired, so why do I love them so much?? I'll tell you why...ADDICTED. I swear those fuckers at starbucks put something in their coffee that makes you keep coming back for more. No more though, I swear. This is the last one...

PHEW!! I did it! That wasn't so bad. Now I'm off the dentist to get my temporary crown and have my mouth stretched and pulled and abused until it's beyond recognition. I know your jealous.

Did you play?

Half Nekkid Thursday - #28

Wanna know why everyone's gettin' nekkid?? Click the link above and visit Osbasso to find out.

Apparently a few people thought my come back photo was a little tame. Thanks for the heads up. Really. What you might not be aware of is that I do this for me, not for you...so unfortunately you're stuck with whatever I decide is HNT worthy. Kind of gives me all the power...and well...I like that. So...in sticking, again, with the whole half theme, I present...

...number twenty eight in my half-nekkid journey ...half assed...



HHNT ya'll!

Monday, Monday

Well. When I woke up this morning I had every intention of not slacking on my blogging duties. Honestly. But between blogger sucking ass and not letting me upload any pictures and a crazy 2 year old demanding every second of my attention...well...you know what happened. I slacked.

It's now Monday evening and I'm finally getting a few hours to myself. The house is quiet...the 2 year old is off to bed...the husband is in Chicago.

Me time.

So here we go, with a slightly random update of all things me and mine. I know a few posts ago I went on about how I did nothing over my "break". That wasn't completely true. I took my son to the eye doctors. (I know...wild and crazy). Anyway, he was diagnosed with Strabismus (Accommodative Esotropia), which in his case means that when he tries to focus to see clearly his right eye turns inward. Apparently it is a hereditary condition, but since neither my husband or I know of anyone that's had it, I'm guessing it may have come from my MIA father's side. If left untreated, his eye could become "lazy" and he could eventually stop using it altogether. For the time being we're trying to straighten his eyes with glasses (surgery is a last resort). You would think that making a two year old wear glasses would be quite a challenging task, but it's actually been easy. He pretty much took to them right away and wears them the majority of each day with a few breaks in between. I took him for his second appt. today and they appear to helping, so yay!! Here's my little guy with his new big boy look.



People are always asking me how old he is. That's what mom's do I guess. You meet someone and their child at the park...what's the first thing you ask? "How old is he/she?". I think it's because we're secretly comparing our child to theirs...but sshhhh!!!...don't tell anyone...no mother would admit to it anyway. Okay, sorry..back on track...when I tell them he's two, I always get the EXACT SAME ANSWER. "WOW...he's big for two". He is, I guess. Kind of...but not freakishly big or anything. Not big enough to warrant a WOW. At least I don't think so. But now, with his glasses, I've had two people tell me they thought he was four. Yikes! (yeah...I do realize I just said yikes)

Moving on. I don't think we've managed to plant the seed this month either. Driving home from Jack's appt. I started to think about the whole hereditary thing and what else he could inherit from us and I lost it. I wasn't just crying, but bawling, while I was driving, with my son in the car. Yeah. Luckily we weren't too far from home, but I did have to stop at the post office and smile through my red blotchy face, like I wasn't a complete crazy person. I think what got me, was thinking about the anxiety...and then thinking of my son having to feel that kind of fear...it was too much. Normally my train of thought doesn't head off in that direction. Wait. Who am I kidding? My train of thought lives off in that direction, but normally I don't break down crying about out in the car. So why today? PMS. That's what I'm thinking. So, therefore, no planted seed. That's my theory anyway.

Last weekend, the little man and I hopped in the car and went on a picture taking extravaganza. Blogger is being a bitch once more and isn't letting me add them so I'll post a few later in the week.

Time to go back to work. :)

That's my boy...

Conversation I had with Jack yesterday while sitting in the sandbox. (seriously, I was sitting in the sandbox)

Me: are you almost ready to go in and have some lunch?

Jack: no lunch.

Me: no lunch??? you mean you don't want macaroni?

Jack: no croni.

ME: how about a drink?

Jack: no drink.

Me: Don't you want to go in and see the doggie?

Jack: no doggie.

Me: hmmm, no doggie! Okay, how about Disney? do you want to go see mickey mouse?

Jack: (thinks for a minute) no, mouse.

Me: what about daddy? do you want to go see daddy?

Jack: no daddy.

Me: How about grandma?

Jack: where grandma be?

Me: grandma went home, she's in Las Vegas.

Jack: Bos Begas?

Me: yeah...do you want to go to Las Vegas?

Jack: (jumps to his feet) YEAH!!!



See?? Parenting is easy. You just have to know what the kid wants.

BTW...the dog puke incident was not mentioned at all later that day. I know, he knows that I know. For me, that's enough.

In other news, there isn't much other news. Still no preggers. I wouldn't say we're trying as hard as we could be, although we are nailing it (no pun intended) at the right time each month, so we'll see. I think, in my tiny brain, I've pretty much decided to give it until the end of Jan. If nothing happens...I'm more than happy with the one little man I have. I'll be even happier when I can have my little pink pills back.

Jack's Daddy will soon be heading off to Chicago. AGAIN. Am I jealous that he gets to fly away all the time? Yes. He says he doesn't want to go, so I said "hey...you stay. I'll go." Not happening. Something about me not working for the company and...I don't know...I wasn't really paying attention.

I'm trying really hard...I mean really, really hard...to stay away from sugar. But, even as I sit here typing I can hear it calling me...

Buy me...

this

I want it.

Oh NO he didn't..

Yeah, he did.

I was going to play SPF with Kristine over at Random and ODD, today, but it ended up being one of those weeks when thinking just wasn't an option for me. So..maybe next Friday.

Today I want to talk about something else. Marriage. Or specifically marriage after kids. Not all aspects...Lord knows there's not enough time for that. Just one aspect.

The definition of marriage after kids: seeing who can get away with doing the least amount of shit at any given time.I lose. I always fucking lose.

Case in point:

It's morning. EARLY fucking morning...like around 4am...and I hear it. I know HE hears it to. I can't even think of how to describe it but if you have a dog or a cat you know it's unmistakable. That dry heaving, wrecking sound they make when they're about to puke... and then...that wet throat noise they make when they do...and silence. Shit...the dog fucking puked, I think. It's fucking 4am, I didn't get to bed until 1am...I am NOT getting up right now to pick up puke. Besides... I came home last night after my art class and volunteered to finish up the laundry AND I picked up his puke last time. HE can do it this time. Yeah, that's what I thought and I rolled back over and went back to sleep. Leaving the puke and the dog to be dealt with in the morning, when HE got up. Certain that I have the edge this time, because HE gets up before me. Ha!

Now, what I'm sure of is that HE was also laying there thinking, "It's too early. I'm not getting up to pick up puke right now... SHE always picks up the puke. And besides, I'm the one who has to go to work today and then take half the day off to play softball"...and he rolls over and goes to sleep.

Fast forward to about 6:30am and I feel someone leaning over the bed trying to rip me away from the kick ass dream I was having. I open my eyes, barely, just enough to see who could possible have the balls to do this...and it's HIM. "I'm leaving...have a nice day...kiss." he says. (well he didn't say kiss, but whatever) Okay, bye. And I roll over in an attempt to recover my dream.

Fast forward again to about 7:30am and I hear Jack starting to wake up...Mommy, where are you?....shit. Okay, so I get up and pee cuz that's priority around here...I walk out into the bedroom and...FUCK! Son of a Bitch. The Puke. Still sitting there, now kind of starting to dry up. That asshole just left it there! There's no way he didn't see it.What kind of excuse could HE possible have for not cleaning this up.

Then, it dawns on me. HE doesn't know that I heard the puke incident when it happened. HE is planning on telling me that it wasn't there...that the dog must have puked after he left...hence leaving me to clean it up. And SLAM!...I lose. Pisses. Me. Off.

Now, granted this a silly, almost comical little incident, but this is the way of it on a pretty regular basis. If you rewound this incident to three years ago (before the long and painful birth of my son) I would have jumped out of bed, let the dog out and quickly cleaned up the mess. But that was before I was given the almost sole responsibility of child rearing. I say almost because the one thing I don't do is earn the living. My measly earnings pay for...maybe food..that's it. I would gladly go out and bring home the bacon if we hadn't put ourselves in such a situation where no amount of bacon I can bring home would ever cover the mountain of expenses that we seem to enjoy creating.

Now I know some of you are thinking...yeah, but you get to (GET TO??)stay home with your son...suck it up...do the laundry...pick up the puke. I'm also guessing that those of you who are thinking that have never had the opportunity of getting to stay home with your kids.

Here's what I vote for as a mandatory life lesson, required by each and every adult in order to be able to pursue their life long dreams...each person...male or female...Whether they want kids or not...should be required to spend 4 weeks (that's all...just four weeks) at home...in anyone's home... with a child. Week one they will spend with a totally dependent screaming infant who eats every two hours around the clock... week two they will spend with a one year old who has just learned to walk, is cutting teeth and into everything that is not nailed down... week 3 will spent with a two year old who's latest passion is throwing his or herself on the ground and screaming for 12 hours out of a 24 hour day... and lastly week three will be spent with a three year old who's grasp of English language causes him or her to talk nonstop for 12 hours out of 24 hour a day, with 1678 of those words being why and 2067 of those words being no. Then...and only then...can we sit and talk about what I get to do.

Now, don't get me wrong, I realize the benefits of spending all of this time with my child. I don't need anyone to tell me what they are. My issue is not with my son. I love him more than my own life...but this here, that I get to do...is a JOB... unlike any other.

Wow. I feel a little better now. There's more where that came from, I'm sure, but I'll save it for a later date. So, what's my point, you ask??? I just wish, that once in a while, like ...maybe every other time...someone else would pick up the fucking puke.

But, what is it that they say about wishes?? Wish in one hand, piss in the other...see which one fills up faster. (revised, because I totally fucked it up the first time).

It's Friday people...Cheers!

Half Nekkid Thursday - #27

Why is everyone gettin' nekkid?? Click the link above and visit Osbasso to find out.

Damn. I feel like a newbie again. It's been about 5 weeks or so since I last bared it and shared it. I considered just diving right in but decided to save some for later. So, this week I give you...

...number twenty seven in my half-nekkid journey ...testing the waters...



Let me know if you got nekkid!

Way Back Wednesday - Show me your ride

It's been a while but I'm glad to be back. And it's Wednesday, which means...time to play that game where The Kept Woman asks us to post embarrassing pictures of ourselves online for all the world to see.

This weeks theme is: I like your wheels man. We've seen the technology of the past, now how about some cars. Can't think of one? Look in other pictures to see if there's a car in the background.

And here we have it...vintage style. This was the only picture I could find and I know you can't see the whole car but, trust me on this...you don't want to. This was my first car...a 1978 Mercury Zephyr. Yeah...you heard me. Rust colored and everything. My parents paid a whopping $400 bucks for this baby when I was 16. Yeah, it had a few dents and huge hole in the front seat, but it got me from A to B, and that's all I cared about. I did have to crawl in through the passenger side and pump the breaks, (remember that? pumping the breaks..ha) but I had my ride, complete with a beanbag ashtray and foam seatcover. Yup. You can see from my face I was pretty happy. This ugly little piece of shit meant freedom. FREE. DOM. It also meant I would wind up in places I wasn't supposed to be and end up doing things I wasn't supposed to do. Good times.



oh..and I've just decided Jack's not getting a car until he's 21. Let me know if you played!

Long ago and far away...

So, a while ago, while I was busy doing nothing, I came across a bunch of old journals that I kept at various points in my life. In a half assed attempt to actually learn from the past I started reading through them to see where I've changed and were I haven't. I thought it would be interesting to post some entries here, every so often, on the actual day they were written...so many years ago. Well okay, in this case only two years ago.

So here we go...

Oct 2, 2004

The pictures came today. I'd been waiting for them for twenty-five years. At first I was afraid to even look. They're just pictures, Hope. No. You don't understand. They're more than photographs. They're pieces of my life. A life that no one wants me to remember...a life that I can never forget. I feel like I should hide them away. Somewhere secret, where no one can find them and take them away, like all of the other pieces. It is so important for me to have something tangible, something real to hold on to. Proof I guess, that I existed...that she existed.

I waited to open them. Waited until all laundry was done. Waited until the baby was fed and put down for a nap. Waited until Jason was busy playing his game. Once everything was done, I grabbed my beer and the large mailer envelope and went out onto the porch. And I opened them, with my heart was beating out of my chest and my hands shaking.

After I had looked at them, for what had to be at least an hour, I realized what I had hoped would happen didn't. The void that I had expected them to fill, was not only still there, but now even larger than before. These photographs didn't answer my questions, they created more...and it is so frustrating to long for something you will never have. Along with more questions, they've also aroused suspicion, and feelings of betrayal. Who is this man? And why do I have his eyes?

Okay. Back to 2006. The pictures were of my childhood prior to age seven, when I was taken away. They were sent to me from my Aunt in Florida after my son was born. I still don't know for sure who the man is. No one else seems to know...anyone that would has died. I've been told two different versions of the circumstances surrounding my birth. 1. My father knew nothing about me...didn't even know my mother was pregnant. 2. My father knew but wanted nothing to do with it and split prior to my birth. In each case, he wouldn't have been around, yet here is this man..holding me outside...helping me open Christmas presents...posing for a picture on valentines day...this man with eyes like mine.

Does is really matter who he is, at this point in the game? Probably not. But it did matter two years ago. It was right after my son was born and I was so filled with love for him, that no matter how I tried I couldn't even imagine a parent being able to walk out of their child's life. Even early on. I couldn't imagine a parent not loving their child. Some time has passed and the need for the truth is slowing passing as well. Not that I wouldn't welcome it. I'm just not sure I have enough energy left to go searching for it.

Slow and steady...

...I'm finding my way back home.

After almost two months, I've finally managed to find my way back. Blogging was starting to take up too much of my time, and honestly, I needed the break. But, because I've pretty much proven that I'm not good at quitting anything, here I am again. As time consuming as it is, it had also become a bit like self-therapy...and well...we all know I need therapy. Plus I missed all my blogger buddies, and can't wait to start reading all about their adventures in this mess we call life.

So diving right in...

What I did on my summer vacation by Hope

1. Nothing.

Wow, that was a lot shorter than I'd thought it would be, but amazingly accurate. I didn't get pregnant, I didn't go back on my wonder drug, I didn't lose my mind completly while my mother was visiting, I didn't lose enough weight to be able to fit into my old jeans, I didn't move to a warmer climate, I didn't really make enough money, I didn't really work all that much, I didn't finish the five paintings I started, I didn't harvest any vegatables from all the plants I attempted to grow, I didn't spend a week at the beach, I didn't get to Martha's Vineyard, I didn't go through all that shit in the basement, I didn't stop eating sugar, I didn't stay away from caffeine, I didn't get to see the people I wanted to see, I didn't say what I wanted to say when I needed to say it, I didn't say what I needed to say when I wanted to say it, and last... but not least, by any means, I didn't kill anyone.

So, there you have it. Now, I know what your saying...Hope, Hope, Hope...why focus on all you didn't do?? Why not focus on the positive...what you DID do! Well...because I didn't do ANYTHING...and also...I tend to be somewhat negative in my natural state. It's part of my charm.

Good to be back, people. :)